WHAT IS TO BE?

I run, I jump, I flee.

This is no mistake or error,

Something is behind me!

Which is why I run in terror.

Its wings flip-flap

Create a buzz,

Louder than a clap

Flies some fuzz.

It matters not where I go,

The being flies high as well as low.

Often hides creating its lair.

Dwelling in a colony, or even your hair!

Also flies at a park,

Among strong bark.

Sometimes among green strips,

Covering the dirt.

Sunlight beams,

Feeling a sting!

I let out screams,

Then turn around.

Should I run or walk?

Or maybe stare and gawk?

Before I make a decision to flee,

The creature makes a decision for me.

It flies from me

Colors of nature.

That lurks everywhere.

It made the choice to leave me be